Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me
by Annabrea-Shaw
Summary: The problem with leading a bunch of teenage delinquents on Earth, Bellamy decides with a groan, is that they are all god damned teens. :: Bellarke.


**AN- I know, I know, I'm WAY late on 'Eighteen' and '101'. Truth is I spent several weeks writing instead of focusing on school, and then got totally fucked at school. So I've had to put off writing to focus on school. I'm using the holiday weekend to catch up on work, so just give me a few more days, and then I'll be back in force, I promise. ****This, however, is me procrastinating again, because I'm having problems with a paper I'm writing and need a break. The title is from My Chemical Romance "Teenagers".**

**Please Reveiw! I feel like the voice isn't quite right, like maybe I write too much like a girl? I dunno. Feedback is loved!**

**-Brea**

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><p>The problem with leading a bunch of teenage delinquents on Earth, Bellamy decides with a groan, is that they are all god damned <em>teens<em>.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The chant wakes him up, early enough that Bellamy is pretty sure no one should even be awake yet.

He runs into Clarke outside his tent flap. Her face is red and damp, freshly scrubbed, the shouts from outside obviously having interrupted her morning routine. They don't speak, merely share a nod as they turn as one in the direction of the scuffle.

There's a mob forming outside the water tent, growing as the calls of spectators attract others. Bellamy pushes through, Clarke following closely at his shoulder. He stops inside the circle, shocked to see which of his charges are locked in the unfriendly embrace in the dirt, fists flying.

"Miller?" Clarke calls in surprise. Bellamy is glad she does, because it gives him a second to swallow his own confusion and adopt the gruff, no-nonsense attitude he prefers in these situations. He jumps in, reaching to pull his lieutenant off the dark skinned kid from Franklin station.

"What the hell is going on?" Bellamy asks when the boys are separated. Someone has pulled the other kid to his feet, and Clarke goes to him, thumbs pressing against either side of the boys nose to assess the break. Miller's eyes are downturned, avoiding both the question and Bellamy's eyes. The crowd around them shifts.

"Jasper!" The taller boy starts when his name is called, turning his head from side to side before stepping forward. He clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Start talking."

"Well, uh…" Jasper hesitates, swallows, and tries again. "Thomas said something and pissed off Miller, so… Miller hit him." It sounds like a question, and Bellamy quirks an eyebrow. It isn't like Miller to just go after someone like that. The kid's a good fighter for sure, it's one of the reasons Bellamy likes having him around, but he's definitely a follower, loyal almost to a fault, preferring to fight for a cause then over petty insults. Whatever Franklin-kid - _Thomas_ he reminds himself, because Clarke keeps telling him he should make an effort to learn their names - had said, it must've been pretty bad.

"Miller?" He asks, hoping Miller will clarify. He doesn't and Bellamy sighs. "If this is about a girlfriend - "

"It isn't." Miller says, hastily. "It's nothing, Bellamy."

"Sounds like some nothing." Bellamy says after Clarke tells him the extent of Thomas' injuries: a broken nose, broken cheekbone, and the kid'll have two black eyes. He's lucky he's still got all of his teeth and that his jaw isn't broken. Bellamy crosses his arms.

If it was anybody else fighting he'd give them a lecture, tell them to get over whatever stolen girl or 'your mom' insult had started it and get back to work. But this is Miller, and something tells Bellamy that whatever drove him to fisticuffs is something to be concerned about.

He calls out to Jasper again, hearing him fidget a few more times before answering.

"Thomas said that making the first hut into a medbay is a waste… and that you only listen to Clarke because she's, uh… putting out."

Someone shouts. It's Thomas, Clarke has just set his nose straight and is wiping her hands self-satisfyingly on her pants. The kid wimpers. Bellamy holds his breath.

First he counts to three, but it isn't enough, so he extends it to ten. Then fifteen. At twenty he meets Clarke's eyes, and at twenty-five she looks away. She's not blushing, but Bellamy can see in her eyes that she's embarrassed. It's one of the things he admires about her, that she can save face in front of the hundred. At the count of thirty he can tell the rest of the group is waiting for him to respond, they're restless in anticipation.

He exhales as he speaks.

"Anybody agree with him?"

There's a murmur in the group, it seems like every remaining member of the hundred is around them now. Bellamy can see Finn out of the corner of his eye. Is it just him, or does Spacewalker look a little more _invested_ in the conversation, rather than just spectating. He files that away to think about later.

No one answers, but he counts at least twelve kids who think the same way Thomas does. Two of them he recognizes from Murphy's old crowd, muscled kids more than willing to jump on a bandwagon. Well shit, it's a mutiny waiting to happen.

"Alright, everybody listen up. Clarke is getting the hut first because having people run through the med bay every five second isn't working, and second because we can't quarantine the dropship the next time someone gets sick. End of story. And as for the second thing.

"If anybody here has a problem with the way things are, you know where the door is." He points to the gate but nobody moves. Bellamy glares a little harder at Murphy's guys who avert their eyes. "Alright then. Since everybody's up, you might as well get to work."

In twos and threes the crowd splits up, heading to their assigned chore stations. Spacewalker takes his time leaving, but follows when Harper reminds him that they need to leave if they're going hunting. Clarke is looking over Miller's face with gentle hands, prodding his split lip. With a small smile she offers him some of Monty's pain-killing leaves to chew on, and Bellamy knows it's her way of thanking the proud boy without embarrassing him. Bellamy decides then and there that he's cutting Miller's patrol shifts for the next week in half.

When Thomas tries to follow the blond to the dropship, Bellamy gets in his way. "Not so fast, kid." He says. He calls to Clarke, who turns. "Clarke, can Thomas work like this?" She thinks about it for a second, then shrugs.

"His nose has stopped bleeding. As long as he doesn't lose anymore blood and stays hydrated, he should be fine." Bellamy grins.

"You heard her, Thomas. You're on smokehouse today."

Thomas looks like he wants to complain, but Bellamy narrows his eyes. Thomas doesn't rise to the challenge, lowering his eyes instead. Clarke and Bellamy watch him leave, only noticing after he's gone that Monty and Miller have gone ahead without her.

"So that happened." Clarke says. Bellamy laughs. "You don't think that they actually think…" She trails off, he grins widely at her.

"Relax, Clarke." He says. "I'll set them straight. Everybody knows Princess don't hook up with Janitors." The words are harsh, but there's no bite to them. Bellamy has learned that whatever class system existed on the Ark is long gone down here. He doubts Clarke ever fit into the upper class mold anyways, but he'll never admit it out loud.

She's got that look now, the one she gets whenever Monty unveils a new brand of moonshine and it's her turn to take the night off. It's that pursed lips, lifted chin, lowered eyelids look that means she's considering doing something outside the norm for ever serious 'Princess Clarke'. He tries not to be surprised whenever he sees the results of that look, but it's always a surprise to see Clarke relax. A good surprise, though. Clarke grins and tosses her head to the side, giving in to the urge.

What she says nearly gives Bellamy a heart attack, but he won't admit that either.

"It's a good thing you're not a janitor anymore then, huh?"

She's headed back to the drop ship before he can answer, but Bellamy is grinning at her back.

"Yeah." He says to himself, in the now empty space near the water tent. "Good thing."


End file.
